Crush
by Ozzy
Summary: S5. What if instead of Spike falling in love with Buffy, it had been the other way around? And what if, like Buffy in the series, Spike didn't return her feelings? Black Comedy, light on the comedy.
1. Prolouge

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters herein and am making no profit.

Summary: What if Buffy fell in love with Spike and not the other way around? This is a fairly dark fic, almost exclusively from Buffy's third person POV. Her feelings for Spike quickly lead her to a dark side she yearns for. Spike, just like Buffy in the series, does not automatically fall in love with her. Set early season five. Black comedy? Hopefully.

IMPORTANT A/N: A few notes, mainly on the writing style. This focuses mainly on Buffy's feelings as told from her perspective. The series is closely followed, but I've deliberately mentioned the happenings only in passing so as not to stray from the main point, namely Buffy's obsession with Spike. I won't be retelling the whole season (exceptions made for a few very important scenes), so a knowledge of season 5 is essentail to understand some of the events going on in the background. I've seen too many promising fics ruined by a boring retelling of things we already know about. Also, this is very much a whim fic, and I may drop it at any time. I don't intend it to be long. As I said, I'll be skipping over many details with my artistic licence, details you'll probably need to fill in yourself (for example, I'm not going into detail about why Riley isn't for her, because you already know). I think if you just accept it as is, rather than say "But what about this-", it'll be more enjoyable. This is a very much experimental style of writing for me. If you can see any ways of improvement, or things you like, please point it out.

Warnings: Yes. Be warned.

* * *

The door to Spikes crypt flew open, crashing into the wall with enough force to bring some dust down from the ceiling. Its hinges were so rusty it didn't swing back. Buffy stormed in and cornered Spike against the wall, the blonde vampire having leapt to his feet as soon as she made the entry. She brandished a stake in her hand, letting Spike see it. He glared darkly at her. Her stance was different this time. This time, she meant it, he knew. 

"You think I'm just gonna let you?" he dared. As if he could do anything about it. She pushed him against the wall and drove the stake home, fully intending to kill him. After his stunt tonight, trying to get the chip removed, she couldn't let him wander around anymore. Next time he might succeed.

Her attempt at slaying was foiled, her target having caught her hand, the stake just millimetres from his bare skin. He slapped the stake away from her and punched her in the face. She recoiled from the strike, then realised he hadn't doubled over in pain. Oh god…

He took a step forward and swung again, but Buffy grabbed his arm at the elbow and pulled him into a kiss. He was shocked, she could tell, but she deepened it. It was raw animal instinct. Gradually, he began to kiss back. She could feel an evil smirk developing on his otherwise busy lips. He lifted her up and pressed her against the wall, his hands reaching into her pockets to touch her in her most intimate areas, soliciting a throaty moan of pleasure.

"I want you, slayer…" he whispered, never ceasing his ministrations.

"Oh god!" Buffy gasped as she felt an orgasm building within her. "Oh god! I love you Spike!"

Buffy opened her eyes and shot up in bed, gasping for breath. Riley didn't stir beside her. She was sweaty and hot. Desire flushed between her legs, though it was quickly receding as another feeling, disgust, took over.

"Oh god…no…" she whispered as the horrible, undeniable realisation came over her. "Please, no."

She was in love with Spike.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

A lot had happened in the last few days; so much it made Buffy's head hurt when she went over it. Some kind of super strong demon had thrashed her without breaking a sweat, her sister was the key, and her mother was ill. She hadn't paid Spike a moment of thought since, her mind far too preoccupied. Which was why when the thoughts did finally come to her, they were all the more unwelcome.

And they had come at the worst possible time. Even worse than at all. They had come in the middle of being with Riley. Lying in bed with him now, listening to his soft snoring, she felt ashamed. Spike had managed to dirty the one normal thing in her life with his taunting and his arrogance. She had been so lost in the moment, that when she came, the only thing on her mind was Spike manhandling her. Hell, she had practically been having a rape fantasy. It disturbed her. She'd never had such thoughts before. Well, ok, maybe just the tiniest, smallest thought of such…dark sex, but she'd never had a full blown orgasm while thinking such things.

"_I mean, why?! What the hell do I see in him that I can't see?" _She couldn't think of any reason she even _liked_ him, let alone loved him. Hell, she didn't like him. She hated him. He pissed her off. He hated her, had tried to kill her, and had tried to kill her family and friends. His very mission statement was to slay her, and only his chip stopped him from trying.

So why did she love him? Or at least think she did...

It was illogical in the extreme. Especially seeing as how she couldn't actually think of a single reason she might have anything but contempt for him. In the privacy of her own mind, she admitted that he was extremely attractive, but she killed attractive vampires all the time, so it shouldn't have any bearing. She wasn't shallow, after all. She was starting to think she might be some kind of pervert though.

But the fact was undeniable. She really, really wished it weren't so, but it is was. She had somehow developed feelings for Spike: love-like feelings. It changed things. Try as she might, she couldn't see him as the black hat he had once been to her. She knew he was evil, but she couldn't help but elevate him to a higher standard in her mind. She knew she'd never be able to kill him, and feared what would happen if she were forced into a situation where she might have to.

Buffy stared at the ceiling, trying to make out patterns in the dark. She sighed deeply. Glancing at the clock next to her bed, she saw it was just after two in the morning. Getting a familiar itch, she closed her eyes and tried to push the blonde vampire from her mind. She slipped out from under the covers and quietly got dressed, quite literally to kill.

She exited her house and headed for one of the cemeteries that was on the opposite side of town from Spikes crypt. She hadn't seen him since her epiphany, but she knew they'd cross paths eventually. He wasn't leaving Sunnydale for some reason, a fact she'd come to accept.

Arriving, she knew it was going to be a busy few short minutes. There were two vampires standing over a grave, obviously waiting for a fledgling to rise.

"Good Mourning?" she quipped. The male pair, dressed in suits, shot around at the sound of her voice. "Or is it still night? I never can tell these days. Keeping a vampire schedule really messes with my internal clock." Snarling, they both rushed her, eager to make a meal of her. She met them both with a split kick to the midsection that sent them reeling backwards. One fell over the tomb they had been waiting at, the other regained its footing and struck again. Buffy side-stepped it and pushed it to the ground, facing it. She sensed the one behind her running, and she thrust her stake under her arm, getting it right in the heart. The one in front of her looked on in terror at the blonde as she twirled her stake around in her hand. Looking at the stake one last time, she looked him in the eye and smiled, then threw the stake at him, getting him right in the heart.

"Just what I needed…" Buffy said with a satisfied smile on her face. She'd been dying to kill something. A sound from behind her jolted her mind back to reality, and she spun around just in time to see a dirt-covered fledgling explode into dust. As he vanished, she could see she smirking form of Spike, holding a stake of his own.

"You should watch it slayer. You might get yourself hurt, walking around alone at night." Thoughts from her dreams rushed back to her, and her heart jumped into her throat. Emotions raged in her as she gazed at Spike, who had just saved her from her own sense of self-satisfaction.

"What the hell are you doing here Spike?" she sighed, breathless, not from the slaying, but from seeing him for the first time since her unwelcome revalation.

"Exactly the same thing as you. Namely, looking to kill things. A good-"

"Spot 'o' violence, blah blah blah," Buffy drawled. "I do it for the good of mankind. You do it to give yourself a-" She snapped her mouth shut, wishing she hadn't said anything. Her cheeks flushed as she thought of the dream she had, where Spike had given _her_ a happy. She'd never be able to separate these concepts, she realised. Anything to do with sex, and Spike would be there in her mind, taunting her…doing other things to her. She shuddered. "_Oh my god…_"

Spike was looking at her strangely, like she'd just done something to make him incredulous. Buffy's spidy sense tingled as she realised her was reading her. "_Oh god…what if he guesses!?" _How would he react? He'd been disgusted when he kissed her before (a memory that suddenly caused hurt to be felt), so wouldn't he be horrified to know she had fallen in love with him?

Not waiting to see if he was guessing, Buffy walked away quickly, wishing she'd picked another graveyard. Much to her non-delight, she could hear him following her.

"I hope you realise I just saved your life. I think you owe me something!" Buffy stopped dead in her tracks and shot around.

"What!?" He walked up to her, closing the twenty or so feet between them.

"Yeah, about a hundred quid or so, I recon!"

"_Oh! He wants money! Damn it Buffy, why was sex the first thing you thought of?"_

"Oh! God, yeah…money…" Buffy scraped together, still trying to sort out her mind. Spikes brows shot up.

"Really?" Buffy blinked in surprise, then realised she had indicated the affirmative. She immediately shook her head.

"No! Spike, I'm not paying you to do _my_ job. Now just…go away!"

"No," he challenged, a seriously displeased look crossing his features.

"What! Why?" Spike got into her face. Oh god, he was so close…something inside Buffy had the urge to grab him and kiss him. Her common sense nearly puked in her brain.

"Are you really that stuck up your own ass?" Buffy gave him a blank look, but realised he was serious. He wasn't playing this time, and was not pleased. "You can't just say the word and make me go away. I'm not one of your sidekicks, and I'm not your remote control soldier," he warned dangerously, fury and bloodlust burning in his eyes. He grabbed her by the shirt, just hard enough to be very uncomfortable, but not quite hard enough to cause her pain. Oh how he wanted to hurt her…he wanted to hear her scream and beg for death. "So don't treat me that way. I'm not gonna be walked on by you, understood?"

His actions took Buffy totally by surprise. Since he'd been chipped, he'd become more and more docile, getting to the point where they actually let him hang out with them a few times during Scoobie meetings. They'd trusted him to lead them into The Initiative. This aggressiveness was a complete turn around on his behaviour to date.

And it drove Buffy wild.

In fact, it was just this sort of roughness that she realised she desired with Riley, but never got. She instantly knew at least one of the reasons she was drawn to Spike. "_I…**want** him to hurt me?_"

She nodded in shock, and he released her. Cursing, he stalked away, slinking back into the cemetery and out of sight. Buffy stood there for several minutes, trying to come to terms with a horrid realisation. The proper, prim girl she had once been was trying desperately to fight it, but she already knew it was hopeless, and had known deep down for some time. You can't fight your nature.

She had masochistic tendencies.

She felt mildly ill as she forced herself to admit it. Come on Buffy, say it out loud…

"I…I-I am…" she struggled. "I am a-" She shook her head. "Sooo not saying I'm a masochist out loud and oh my god I just did…" She'd said it. She felt like slapping herself. And she had a twisted…obsession (yes, that was the right word) with her mortal enemy. In fact, he was her arch nemesis if ever she had one. Granted, a neutered, annoying, attractive arch nemesis that couldn't lay a finger on her, but one that screamed danger nonetheless.

And that she couldn't get out of her mind. When he'd grabbed her by the scruff of her collar and pulled her to him, she had felt like letting him take her in the most violent and painful "_Pleasurable" _way possible. Throwing down her arms and dragging her mind out of the gutter, she went home, suddenly not feeling like patrolling.

"I need to get to sleep."


	3. Chapter 3

Well, a much-needed distraction came in the form of Tara's family. So they'd convinced her she was a demon, eh? Sneaky. Well, Spike had shown up for some reason and sorted out the whole mess. That had been peachy. Just at a time when Spike had been in another universe in her mind, he'd shown up and saved the day.

Him! Saved the day! Ok, he'd done it by punching a young woman in the nose, but the end result had been the same. She could tell that everyone had been mildly impressed. It got on her nerves. Buffy decided to concentrate on the battle at hand. Turning her attention to a vampire with a wickedly bad afro, she slipped into casual banter mode.

"Because, ya know, the field of personal hygiene has come a long way since you became a vamp!" Buffy said, following up with a somersault over a tombstone. She brought her stake down on the 70's vampire, but he grabbed her hands and curved the stake inward, using her own strength to drive the stake into her gut.

It was a horrible sensation. She felt the tip go in, and that was ok; it was just like getting a shot. It was the rest that hurt. Starting from a point, it tore her skin into a gaping hole. She could feel the blood well up and trickle down the waistband of her pants.

Looking up, she punched the vampire in the face, knocking him over. Wrenching the stake from her belly, she did the first thing that came to her dazed mind: she ran. The rest happened in a daze-the vamp cornering her against a crypt, readying her own stake for the final plunge-but she knew she was about to die, when all of a sudden a powerful body tackled the vampire, saving her.

Spike! She cried in her head, her eyes rolling into the back of her skull. She slumped down the wall of the mausoleum, holding her wound. She couldn't believe it. Spike had saved her again. She just might give him money this time. She actually felt grateful he was there. She swore when this was over she was going to civilly thank him.

"Buffy, are you ok?" came an American voice. She opened her eyes, her heart falling when she realised it was Riley who had saved her. A wave of guilt washed over her as she realised a number of things. She'd just wished Spike had saved her instead of him. She also realised that she preferred Spike to Riley, for some ungodly reason. The most important was that she was being grossly unfair to her boyfriend. She realised she'd been neglecting him, but she wasn't sure she wanted to stop. She hadn't noticed her lack of feeling for him. He was…nice. She liked having him around. But only when she wanted. With Spike…well, he was always there when you wished he wasn't, and…actually, she couldn't think of a time she had wanted him around.

"I'm actually sick. I have some illness. I'm mooning over someone I really shouldn't be, for reasons I don't understand, when I've a perfectly nice, normal boyfriend-" That's when it struck her. Normal…

"…But I'm not normal…Stop it Buffy! I can't believe you're even considering breaking up with him!"

"But why shouldn't you consider it?" came another voice. Great, now she was debating with herself.

"Because he doesn't deserve it!"

"But not because you don't want to?" Buffy felt oddly empty inside at the knowledge she agreed with the other voice.

"…No. Can't I just…lie?"

"You know that's wrong. And it won't work in the long run. Or even the middle run."

"…I know. But what's the alternative? Say Riley, you're nice and all, but I'm obsessed with Spike?"

"Oh, so you're admitting it out loud now?" taunted the voice. Buffy knew she had caught herself out. She actually felt creepy chills run down her spine as the words echoed in her head, but they were true, and she could deny it no longer, even superficially. Not when she was lying to Riley as well as herself.

"I'm obsessed with Spike," Buffy muttered forlornly to herself. As much as she hated the very idea, it felt good getting it off her chest. After all, wasn't the first step to recovery admitting you had a-

"What?" Horrified, she looked into the eyes of her boyfriend, who had heard her mutter those forbidden words. She hadn't meant to say it outloud.

"Huh? Did I say something?" she said painfully, wincing as she lied to him. He thought the wince was due to the wound she received. Riley shook his head.

"No. Come on, we've gotta get you to a hospital."

-----

"I still think you need to see a real doctor," said Riley as he packed up the medical kit. Buffy pulled her beige top down over the bandages that were wrapped around her waist.

"Relax. Slayer healing powers, remember? Besides, seeing a real doctor would put me in a real hospital, and mom would get worried. That's the last thing she needs right now."

"Yeah…" Buffy furrowed her brow as she could tell something was bothering him. She rested her hand on his reassuringly, but he pulled away. She knew what she had said, and he obviously knew too, so she decided to drop false pretences. After all she'd done to him, he deserved it. "Look, about what I said, back there? I-it was-"

"It's ok Buffy," he said, flashing her a reassuring smile. "You were badly wounded. You were just mumbling. It could have happened to anyone." She looked him in the eyes, and she knew he was just being gentlemanly. They both knew damn well she had been speaking the truth, though he obviously didn't understand how she'd arrived at the place she was in.

It made her feel worse. He was still willing to forgive her? Even though he knew what she had said? Yes. He was willing to permanently overlook the fact that she didn't love him, because he loved her. She sadly shook her head.

"No…thank you for saying that…you don't know how much it means…but I'm being unfair to you. I've only just realised it…but you've known for a while, haven't you?" Looking away at first, then down, he settled on looking right at Buffy.

"I love you Buffy. But you can't help that I'm not enough for you. I'm not sure what you want, but I am sure I can't give it. I don't hold it against you at all, ok? I'll stand by you if you want me to."

It was one of the most romantic things she'd ever heard…but it didn't cause her feelings of romantic love. She cupped his cheek with her hand and gently kissed him.

"I'm so sorry." She steadied herself. She had to be strong. She knew she had to do this. "I'm leaving you." She watched his face closely, seeing the almost imperceptible facial movements that betrayed his emotions. "Do you understand?" After a long while, he slowly nodded.

"I understand it needs to be done. This relationship…it isn't going anywhere. But like I said…I'll be here for you if you need me." His voice was distant and melancholy.

"Do…you wanna talk about it?" Buffy asked gingerly. Licking his lips to restore some moisture, he nodded.

"Yeah. You mentioned Spike. What's up there?" he asked conversationally, changing his tone.

"I'm not sure you really want to hear it…"

"No, I do. I'm ok to hear it. Besides, if something is bothering you, I want to help."

"That…selfless bastard. Why can't he be enough? I want him to be enough so badly, but he isn't…oh Buffy, you have really screwed yourself over this time."

"If you're sure..." Buffy said. He nodded, and she took a breath, and began to pour her heart out to her former lover.

If you've made it this far, thank you! The next chapter is the good one, the one you've all (hopefully) been waiting for. I'm just debating the ending, so it should be up just after new year. Please review. I'm very interested about reactions to my style of writing. Even if you don't like the plot or think the fic isn't going anywhere, I'd really like some input into my style. I'm working hard to improve it.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you Kim, my one reviewer. Typo fixed. To answer your question (though giving away the plot is something I rarely do, even by way of warnings), Riley will be appearing...not very often, if ever again. I concentrated on him last chapter to get rid of him, basically.

* * *

"It says the same as all the others," Buffy answered Giles in an exasperated fashion. "She got chosen, killed the bad guys, blah blah, oops she's dead." Giles continued to pace around the magic box, carrying a watcher diary. "Where are the details of the slayers' last battle?"

Of course, she knew the answer before she had even asked the question: No details because they'd died, and were unable to make a report. But she needed to know so badly. She had almost died in a normal fight. What made their last battles so significant? If it hadn't been for Riley, that _insignificant_ battle would have been her last. Giles pointed this out, earning a glare from his slayer. She didn't need him to tell her what she already knew.

"-There's no one left to tell the tales…" he said, trailing off when he realised he was mistaken. Buffy realised at the same time. Their eyes met, and both knew what she had to do.

Buffy inwardly groaned. She had to find Spike, the one who had been messing her up in the head, and ask him about a subject she really didn't feel comfortable about. Why was it that whenever she found something to distract her from the blonde that invaded her dreams, he'd pop up somehow? He drove her crazy. She couldn't stop thinking about him. Not in a good way, either. In a 'I'm stalking him' kind of way.

She'd dreamed about him last night. After she had confessed her dark secret to her now ex-boyfriend, and after he'd gone home, Buffy had dreamed. It had been dark. Darker than she normally liked her dreams, but it had seemed so…satisfying; like an urge had been quenched. She had died in it. Despite Spike fighting to save her, she'd been mortally wounded. When he'd killed the last vampire, he ran to her and held her, telling her how much he loved her, and would always love her. He'd kissed her, and then…she'd woken up. The love she'd felt in the dream left her feeling warm inside. It was just like that time they'd been engaged.

Of course, when she woke up the feeling diminished, having been replaced with that longing feeling. It felt like she was missing something, and the dream had told her exactly what. It had been so picture perfect, like something from a darkly romantic novel where everyone dies.

But this wasn't fiction. She was pining after a mass murderer, a sadistic torturer, and a rapist. She was drawn to his dark side (or was that his only side?). Dracula was right…she had a dark side that could no longer be ignored or suppressed. It was the side of her that dragged her from bed almost every night and made her hunt for prey. It was the side that had gotten off all three times she'd been bitten by vampires.

It made her feel dirty. It made her feel less human, and like she was damaging her friends just by being around them. The worst part of this degrading feeling? It turned her on. More, it satisfied something inside her, something that longed for darkness.

Sighing, she said goodbye to Giles and went to see Spike.

* * *

Walking into his crypt, she called out his name. He appeared from behind a pillar.

"What can I do for you, slayer?" he asked casually.

"You killed slayers. Two of them." Spike raised a brow. It was the first time she'd ever brought this up with him. He wondered why.

"Yeah, what of it?" he said, a small smirk emerging.

"You're going to show me how."

* * *

Buffy sat at a table across from Spike. The pair were in The Bronze, sitting in the shadows under the stairs. It was a relatively quiet night: no band, no dancing. Just enough people for them not to be noticed. Their location, though visible, was intensely private. His eyes sparkled with mischief through the din, and he knocked back his cheap beer, making a comment about how it wasn't a very good one.

"Update, Spike. We're here to talk about slayers, not hops. Two of them, both killed by you. Tell the tale, get the cash." She was going to do her best to ignore her feelings, because this was important. She needed to know how the other slayers had died.

"_It's more than that, isn't it?"_ came that dark voice in her head. "_You want to hear more about him, about his past? About his darkness…because it draws you to him. This is your way of getting closer…" _

"Right then. We fought. I won. The end. Pay up!" said Spike shortly, presenting an open hand. He was eying the hundred dollars in Buffy's fist. Buffy clenched her jaw.

"That's not what I meant-"

"What, you want a blow by blow description? It's not about the moves, slayer. And since we're doing this, we're doing it my way. Wings." Buffy blinked. "Spicy buffalo wings. Order me up a plate, I'm feeling peckish, and unfortunately slayer isn't on the menu," he ordered, eying a vein on her neck in an obvious fashion.

Buffy's heart jumped when she realised he was imagining killing her. The way he wanted to bite her and drain the very last drop of life from her…to consume her in a way nobody else had ever wanted to? It sparked feeling between her thighs.

By now Buffy had had two weeks to come to terms with her infatuation with Spike (she refused to call it love, though in her dreams it went by no other name), but she still trembled with disgust sometimes. Sub-consciously covering her neck with her hand, she turned around to ask a waiter for wings, gasping in pain when she upset her injury. She looked up at Spike and saw him looking at her with a sinister smile.

"Well well… some nasty thing got a taste of you. Pity it wasn't me," he added, chuckling so as to unnerve her.

"I'm fine." Spike scoffed.

"Oh yeah, you're here, sittin' in a dark corner with a creature you loathe because you're fine," he said sarcastically.

She really did loathe him. She loathed him because she loved him. No, not love. She lusted after him. Her dark side desired what he was, that was all.

And it was too much to fight. He demanded buffalo wings again. "Were you born this big a pain in the ass?" Buffy sighed, struggling with her inner battle. He grinned, baring his fangs. Flecks of gold lit up his eyes before receding back to blue.

"What can I say? I've always been bad." Spike then began to retell the story of how he'd been sired. Parts of it, Buffy almost laughed at, others, she had wanted to stroke his face and apologise for as though they were her own crimes. Realising that he had once been an honest, fallible man, she felt a deep regret at his death.

At some point, they removed themselves from the table and began playing pool together. A haze hung around the vampire, testament to his chain smoking.

"So you were reborn to darkness. What then?" Spike laughed out loud. "What?"

"Reborn to darkness?"

"What? Isn't it accurate?" Spike tilted his head.

"Yeah, it is. Which is why I'm surprised. I woulda thought you'd dismiss it like it was nothin'." Buffy shrugged.

"Well it obviously was a big deal for you. I mean…you died. When you came back…you were someone else." More or less, Spike thought. "It must have been a profound experience," she added distantly, thinking, fantasising about how he might have felt. She was imagining what it must be like to become a vampire, a thought that scared her, but one that was impossible to distance herself from. She was stroking darkness, and it was satisfying.

Spike lit a match off the table and lit up another smoke. Buffy wondered in passing where you could buy non-safety matches. "It was. I was no longer bound by societies rules. I made my own. Of course, I needed a gang."

"Angel." Spike nodded.

"And Drusilla, and Darla. Although at first I was an unwelcome addition to the trio, I worked my way into the mix. Dru insisted I stay, and eventually I even won the begrudging respect of Angelus. Darla never liked me, but she enjoyed my body every now and then."

"You and Darla?" Spike looked at her pointedly.

"Yeah. And Darla and Dru. And me an' Darla and Dru. And me an' Angel." Buffy gasped, her eyes widening. "And every possible combination there is with four people. What, you shocked? Well don't be! We were bleedin' vampires. Like I said: not bound by the rules of society. I'm not surprised at all Angel never told you. Angel hates me. I always regretted that Angelus wasn't there to see me in my finest hour."

"When you killed your first slayer," Buffy surmised, pushing thoughts of Spike and Angel from her mind.

"The one and only. It was the happiest night of my life. I was barely 20 years bein' a vampire, and I killed a slayer in one-on-one combat. You really can't imagine the status that that brought me. Once Angelus' little side kick, I became his equal over night. To most creatures of darkness, the slayer brings on cold sweat. It makes even the powerful tremble with fear. But not me. I sought them out. I became obsessed."

"_I'm obsessed with this vampire. Nice to know he's obsessed with slayers." _Wait… he's obsessed with slay_ers_. That was why he had come to Sunnydale, and it's why he stayed. He wanted to kill her. She tingled at the thought. He was here solely to see her dead. Getting her mind back on track, Buffy levelled her gaze at him.

"So how'd you kill her?" Spike strode towards her, moving behind her. She assumed he was moving to a more advantageous position to shoot from, but he grabbed her from behind.

"Funny you should ask," he whispered in her ear. She didn't try to shake him off. He was breathing down her neck in a manner that roused desire deep within her. She could smell his coat through the stale smoke. She gasped as he turned her around roughly and squeezed her shoulder. "Lesson the first: always reach for your weapon; I've already got mine." With that he shook his head, his demon coming to the fore. From deep within him came an animal growl. Buffy looked around nervously. Surely someone would notice? Some people had, and were backing away, obviously knowing what he was. When she looked back, his face was normal again. "Anyway, today, the slayer is you. Back then, it was Her."

He then described in detail how the battle against the Chinese slayer had gone over 100 years ago. The tale thrilled Buffy. Hearing about the pumping adrenaline, the combat. It was exactly like slaying was for her. The only difference was the ending. She was actually breathing heavily by the end of the tale.

"You got off on it…" she said. She had meant to sound disgusted, but there wasn't any determination behind the words. She had too. Just hearing about it made her crave the experience. By this stage, the voice telling her she was sick in the head had long retreated into the background. The way Spike told his tale, you just got sucked in. It was like reading a book so good you lost track of reality. She didn't care that it was wrong anymore. She knew she was going to dream about it.

"Of course I did," he bragged. "The blood of a slayer…it was like nothing I'd ever experienced before. But I'm sure you don't want to hear about it, do you?" he questioned with a sultry grin.

She did. She really did. But she wasn't going to ask him. This whole conversation was intense. Already it seemed like the other people in club weren't there.

"So how many of my kind do you reckon you've done in?" he asked, slithering around the table towards her.

"Not enough," she answered simply.

"Well," he began, getting closer to her. "You can kill a hundred of us, a thousand, a thousand thousand, and the armies of hell besides-" he was so closer to her she could smell the duster again. He got right in her face, so close she could smell the alcohol on his breath. "And all we need is for one of us-just one," his voice got lower and lower and he approached her. She backed up a little, but he pursued. "-To sooner or later have the thing we're all hoping for." By now it was a deadly whisper right in her ear. "One. Good. Day."

He withdrew himself from her, revelling in the fact that she was trembling. She was talking to a vampire who wanted her dead, about him wanting her dead. Her heart was pounding and her blood rushing, and he could see it. He eyed a throbbing vein on her neck, licking his lips.

"So that's it? Lesson over?" she whispered, her mouth too dry to say it louder. Of course she knew Spike would hear her. He turned away and putted the black, winning the game.

"Not even close. Come on," he said, exiting the building, heading for the alley. Bringing the snooker cue with her, she followed him out. The chill of the night air was refreshing, but did little to remove her mind from the haze it was in.

It was in this daze that her mind registered Spike's fist flying at her. She dodged just in time and grabbed him, spinning him around and pinning him against the wall. He laughed evilly. "Lesson the second: ask the right questions. You've been asking how'd I win? You should be asking, why'd they loose?"

She released him and shrank away. "What's the difference?" Moving with preternatural vampire speed, Spike moved to skewer Buffy's throat with the cue, halting with no margin for error. It was pressed against her windpipe. He'd caught her so completely by surprise she hadn't even flinched, but on the inside she realised she'd just been spared death only by the chip. Her lip trembled. Spike saw this and gloated.

"What's the matter? Did I scare ya?" he taunted.

"_To death._" He'd never scared her before tonight, but she realised she was terrified. "_These twisted urges will get me killed."_

"_You can only hope_" came that dark voice within her. She ignored it.

"H-how'd you kill the second one?" He looked at her.

"A bit like this." He swung repeatedly, but slayer reflexes kicked in, and she dodged the punches. She looked at him questioningly. "If there's no intent to hurt you, that chip doesn't activate," he said, knowing she was asking before she did.

"Do you wanna hurt me?" she panted, sounding almost as if she were begging. She regretted it, and hoped Spike would take it as a dare. Spike grabbed her arm and pulled her closer. He looked her in the eyes.

"Do you want me to, luv?" closing her eyes, Buffy pushed him away.

"How'd you kill her?" As soon as the words left her mouth, Spike was attacking again. He grabbed her and dragged her painlessly to the concrete ground until she was lying flat on her back. Grabbing her stake, he leapt on top of her pressed it against her heart.

"You're not ready to know." Buffy, momentarily shocked he had managed to get her pinned, grasped his hands with her own and pressed the stake against her own chest, surprising the vampire.

"I'm ready." She pushed him off and swung at him. He dodged and struck back, and they were dancing once more. He explained in between the punches and kicks how he'd killed her. He said he could have danced all night with her. "You think we're dancing?" He said that's all we've ever done, and Buffy knew he was right. If she had been fighting with Spike, he'd be dead by now. But no, they'd danced, trading blows and quips and insults, but she hadn't realised it.

Until now.

She found herself actually enjoying it. It was a release. The human world melted away, and all that was left were predator and prey, dancing to the death. It was beautiful. The outcome was beautiful. The death was beautiful.

"Everyday, the same bloody question haunts you. 'Is today the day I die'," he echoed, twirling the cue in his hands, stalking closer to Buffy, ready to strike again. "Death is on your heals baby, and one day it's gonna catch you."

"_It will…I know."_

"And part of you, wants it!" panted Spike, lashing out at Buffy again.

"_Part of me does. Part of me wants it right now._"

"_Not_ to finally be done with the uncertainty, but because you're in love with it," he growled.

"_I'm in love with you. You are death, and I want you to take me…_"

"Death is your art. You make it with your hands day after day. That final gasp; that look of peace." Spike dodged a punch from Buffy that she had depended on making to keep her balance, and she fell to her knees. She was about to force herself up, but she saw that Spike had dropped the fighting stance, and just stood over her. She looked into his eyes and bent her knees more, sitting on her feet, electing to stay on the ground. He had total dominion over her. "Part of you is desperate to know…what's it like?" She had never wanted anything more. How could he make her want death, just by using words? She was transfixed on the standing vampire. "Where does it lead you? You see, every slayer has a death wish."

"_Even me_" "Even you."

Buffy was lost in his deep blue eyes. He held out a hand, and she took it. He pulled her to her feet and continued. "The only reason you've lasted as long as you have is because you've got ties to the world. Your mum, your scoobies: they tie you here. But you're just puttin' off the inevitable. Sooner or later, you'll want it. And the second…" he clapped his hands in front of her face, snapping her back to attention. "The _second_ that happens, you know I'll be there."

"_You're right…you're here now, aren't you?"_

"I'll slip in…have myself a _real_ good day." He chuckled, letting the obviously disturbed slayer stew a bit longer. "Here endeth the lesson………I just wonder if you'll like it as much as she did," Spike pondered with a nearly seductive expression. "Although, judging by the smell I'm getting offa you, I'd say you'll love it, in a very wet and sticky way."

She was too far-gone to be phased by his remark. He was right. He knew her better than she knew herself. She was wetter than she'd ever been before in her life. It felt like she was floating, as though his words had raised her to a place of pleasure and of death. Her breath came to her in shallow pants, barely audible, even to Spike, though he obviously knew how she was feeling. He was mere inches from her, close so as to intimidate her even more.

She was intimidated. He'd succeeded. She was trembling. She was also sick of waiting. She leaned forward and captured his lips in a kiss, one from which he recoiled. "What are you-" he yelped. She clutched his duster and pulled him to her, pressing her body against his.

"Come on, you know you wanna dance. You've never been more right about me," she whispered in a near moan. "And I've only just realised it. Come on, make me feel alive, Spike. Use me, do whatever you want. Hurt me. Whatever you do, make sure to fuck me. Don't hold back. I know what you want to do to me. Do it. Do more. Just…make me come alive." She stood in front of him in a frenzy, using all her might to stop herself from ripping his shirt open.

The darkest smirk she'd ever seen in her life crossed his features as he imagined doing what she asked. "I can't do a tenth of the things I'd like to as long as I have this chip. But I'll do my best." He grabbed her by the shoulders, and she threw herself at him. She crushed herself against him, rubbing against his knee. She moaned in pleasure as she did, and he nearly laughed. He could scarcely believe she was doing this. He'd never have believed at the start of the lesson it would end like this. No matter…

He pushed her away violently, throwing her into the brick wall. Before she had a chance to recover, he was upon her, ripping open her shirt and squeezing her breasts painfully. She was certainly in pain, but he wasn't, and she wasn't sure why, but she was past the point of caring. Spike was biting her neck hard enough to bruise. His tongue licked trails along her skin, causing goose bumps to form as the wet was exposed to the cool night air. She leapt up and wrapped her legs around him, squeezing him with slayer strength to indicate how great her desire for him was.

He undid the button on her trousers and lowered the zip. Pushing her underwear aside, he thrust two fingers into her, eliciting a gasp of pain and pleasure. Foreplay? That was already over. He knew she was in pain, and yet the chip didn't go off, a fact he absolutely revelled in. _"It doesn't go off if she **wants** pain!"_

Buffy was beside herself with pleasure. Her mind was still in that place Spike's words had brought her to; that place where her very mind revelled in the ecstasy of death that he had promised to bring her. It was dark, she knew, but she was far beyond caring. This was so animal, so instinctual. She felt as though this was where the slayer belonged. It was as though a smoke had cleared, and for the first time she saw things as they were. She was The Slayer. She battled the forces of darkness, but was dark herself. Only by being truly dark could a human stand a chance, and Spike took her to this place in her mind. It was just like the place Dracula had taken her, only Spike hadn't taken her here; he'd led her. She was a willing follower.

She moaned with a torrent of lust as Spike replaced his fingers with his manhood. He grabbed her waist, mindful not to cause her wound _too_ much pain. It ached and stung, but no more than Spike's intrusion into her body did. He slid in, going in all the way in one fell swoop, causing Buffy to gasp. Licking his lips with unconcealed bloodlust, he started lifting and dropping her, impaling her on him, an action she readily assisted him with. "_Oh god...this is..._" Buffy couldn't even formulate a thought.

Thrusting with violent rapture, Spike kept going faster and faster, blinding Buffy with the pleasure. She closed her eyes tightly and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing as rolling orgasms gripped her petite form. She buried her face in his shoulder, baring her neck. At the very height of her climax, she felt Spike's fangs sink into her jugular. Blood exploded into his mouth, aided by Buffy's pounding heart. For Buffy, the feeling of pain and danger just heightened her already otherworldly pleasure. The taste of slayer blood was too much for Spike, and came inside her, grinding her hips to his. He sucked and sucked, gulping down as much as he could. He stopped thrusting eventually and just held her there, drinking this ambrosia. Her face remained buried in his shoulder. She was buzzing with feeling, both physical and emotional. She felt sheer contentment. she felt connected to herself, like she finally understood what she really was. Sadly, it wasn't to last.

Buffy came down, the waves of pleasure subsiding, and the pain of her neck became ever more apparent. She whimpered in pain, wishing he'd stop, fear growing in her heart. A moment later Spike tore away from her, clutching his skull and howling in agony. The pain brought him to his knees, forcing Buffy to the ground with him.

He was going to finish her, she realised. He had just tried to drain her dry. Scrambling to her feet, she redid her trousers. As soon as they were zipped and buttoned, she turned to face the kneeling vampire. He was slowing getting up, the pain subsiding. She clamped a hand over he neck wound, which was bleeding more than she would have liked. Crimson flowed down her neck and ruined her top.

"What are you..." she asked, trailing off. Spike, upon seeing the hurt and bewildered look in her eyes, laughed out loud.

"Doing, pet?" he finished for her with mirth. She nodded, and the smile left his face, replaced with a cold lack of emotion. "What do you think?" He drew himself to his full height and wiped some blood from his chin, licking his finger clean. He savoured the powerful taste. He reckoned he'd got almost a third of her total blood volume in that short minute.

"B-but...I thought-"

"What? What exactly did you _think_?" he challenged mockingly. "That we'd fuck and then cuddle? For that matter, what _were_ you thinking? Don't get me wrong, I haven't enjoyed a shag that much in a long time, and the food was great, but are you out of your mind?"

Yes, what had she thought? Had she believed it would be magical in a non-ecstasy of death kind of way? How had she planned the ending of that little tryst to go? She didn't know...but she wanted it to be going differently.

"You're right. I wasn't thinking. I-" he grabbed her and pinned her against the wall. It hurt her slightly, and he could feel the chip buzzing with caution.

"Damn straight you weren't thinking. I just tried to kill you, a feat that should be impossible thanks to this chip." Buffy pushed him off her and punched him in the jaw as hard as she could, somewhat unnerved when he shrugged it off like a child had just slapped him.

"Why do you care!?" she demanded. Spike just started chuckling jeeringly. "What's so funny!?" she demanded, starting to feel desperate. She had a history of her flames treating her badly, and this wasn't helping. She felt vulnerable, though the biggest reason was because Spike could tell her things about herself that even she didn't know.

"I don't. I just wanted to see the look on your face when you realised you'd whored yourself out to a filthy, disgusting monster. It's bloody comic! Just wait until I tell me friends what ol' Spike's just done. I should've known the only thing better than killing a slayer would be fucking one."

Buffy wasn't able to stop the tears stream down her face because they'd come so suddenly she hadn't realised they were there until it was too late. She had never felt so…filthy in her whole life. He was evil, and he was discarding her. It was like Angelus and Parker rolled into one, one that didn't wait until the morning after to show his colours. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, though she wondered how something so broken could work at all. Unable to tolerate his taunting a second longer, she turned tail and ran.

* * *

Spike sauntered into his crypt, his coat billowing behind him as he shut the door. He felt good. Hell, he felt great. He hadn't felt this charged in neigh on thirty years. The night was still young, and he was just here to pick up a bottle of jack from the fridge and tape the week-after re-run of Passions he'd missed. He went to the fridge and withdrew the 70cc bottle of whiskey, then set the VCR to record. He had just opened the bottle to take a swig, when something happened to him.

It wasn't physical, but emotional. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It was like…like a hole had been bored in his heart and all the feeling was being sucked out. He felt cold and empty, a feeling he'd never felt before. It was as though he were dying on the inside. He dropped the whisky, letting its contents spill to the ground. He found himself breathless, quite a feat for a vampire. His body felt heavy, like he didn't want to be standing any longer. He painstakingly dragged his body to the wall and leaned against it, slumping down until he sat on the cold stone floor. He drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. He tried to fight the sinking feelings he was having, telling himself that it wasn't true, telling himself that Angelus's words hadn't meant anything, that he didn't know what he talking about.

But he knew the truth. Somewhere, somehow, Drusilla, his sire, was dead.

It was killing him.

He sat there for an age, alone in the dark, mulling over what he was feeling. So this is what it felt like to loose your sire? This is how Angel had felt when he'd killed Darla? How could he stand it! Of course he know already. Angelus had never loved Darla. He felt her loss acutely, but he hadn't loved her. Even though they'd been broken up close to three years now, Spike still loved Drusilla, he knew. Not the way he once had, but she'd always hold a special place in his heart. That, coupled with the bond between them being broken, and he had emotional chaos. All his joy was gone, and he felt like he'd never know happiness again. He could not remember a bleaker moment in his life.

Hearing a click, he looked up, removing his face from his hands, and saw the slayer. She was pointing a crossbow at him, aiming directly at his heart.

-----

When he looked at her she instantly knew something was wrong. His face was mostly concealed in shadows, but she could see two shiny trails on his cheeks as they glistened in the darkness. He looked into her cold face. She'd come here to kill him. To get revenge for what he'd done to her. Never in her life had she ever felt such a cold fury within her. She was determined to beat him to within an inch of his unlife, until he was unrecognisable and brain dead, and then she was going to stake him. She was going to do what she should have done years ago, and kill him, ending her sick little obsession.

But seeing him now did something to her. He saw her lifeless stare, and she saw one looking back at her, nothing like the haughty glint he'd given her an hour ago. His taunting and demeaning laughter was a distant echo, and all there was now was him, sitting alone in his crypt, crying, on what should have been one of the best nights of his life. The two stared at each other, unmoving, unblinking, for several long seconds. Buffy broke first. Her look softened, and she slowly lowered the crossbow.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her soft tone breaking the deafening silence. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. After several failed attempts, his mouth shut. He retreated into himself. She realised he didn't care if he lived or died, for the moment at least. She couldn't fathom what might have brought this bizarre mood shift on, but all her animosity left her because of it. Having come on wings of anger, such feelings melted away until all that was left was sympathy and the emotion that had got her into this mess to start with: love.

How she could love him after what he'd done to her, she didn't know. _"Love's irrational, isn't it?" _she reminded herself. "_I shouldn't love him. I should be revelling in his pain. Lord knows he did in mine."_

She noted he looked dead, something he usually didn't do. He breathed usually, out of habit she guessed, but now he was motionless. He dropped his head to the ground and stared at her boots. Buffy put the crossbow down and tiptoed over to him, timidly seeing how he'd react. He didn't. Emboldened, she sat down beside him. After a few moments, seeing he didn't protest, she gingerly touched him, the touch growing into a comforting rub. Withdrawing after a minute, not wanting to invade his space if he wasn't willing to even talk to her, she just sat with him in silence for a long time.


	5. Chapter 5

At last, Spike moved, the jerk being his first sudden show of life in almost an hour. After not breathing for a long time, he sucked a deep breath into his lungs, causing Buffy to jump slightly. She looked over at him, and could see he was clenching his jaw. He sighed and looked around, his eyes eventually falling on her. Her heart picked up speed when the events of the night came back to her. A spark of hurt and anger caused her face to flush. Spike either didn't see it, or he ignored it. With a predatorial and unnatural grace, he rose to his feet. The crypt was cold and dark. He walked over to the fallen bottle of jack and picked it up, placing it and the remainder of its contents on top of the television. Taking a Zippo lighter from the pocket of his black jeans, he lit about a dozen candles that were strewn about the place, bringing a gentle light to the room.

"You just gonna huddle there, or are you gonna tell me when the fuck you're doing here?" he asked emotionlessly, taking a cigarette from a box in his back pocket and lighting up. Both vampire and slayer moved their gazes to the abandoned crossbow on the floor.

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked, repeating her original question and ignoring his. She rose slowly, unsure what was going to happen. Anger flared in Spike's eyes, though outwardly his demeanour didn't change.

"S'none of your business. Get out," he ordered, his tone devoid of feeling. He turned away from her not wanting to face her. He was mortified anyone had seen him like that. The ache still burned inside him, but it wasn't so bad now. He wondered if it would continue to lessen, until it became nothing more than a distant memory. He was grateful he hadn't gotten that feeling in a life or death situation.

"Were you…feeling guilty?" Buffy asked, though she didn't think that was it. Spike turned around, a bittersweet smile on his lips.

"For what?" No, Buffy knew. Of course he wasn't guilty. For anything. She couldn't help but feel disappointed.

"Never mind. So if it wasn't guilt, what was it? You weren't crying in the corner because I violated you, that's for sure." Flashes of the ordeal hit Buffy, and her heart ached with pain, humiliation and love. Spike smirked. "I can't wait to tell my friends that you're a big baby. Or your friends, for that matter." The smirk vanished from Spike's lips as he realised that she could make him even more pathetic in the eyes of his peers than he already was.

"What happened here never leaves this room. Not a single peep of what you just saw will ever pass your lips, understood?" Spike threatened, deathly serious. Buffy frowned and raised one questioning eyebrow. Spike sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes. "And in exchange, I'll tell no one about that little tryst in the alley." Secret relief flooded over Buffy. That was a fair trade, though she thought she could squeeze a little more from him.

"Sweeten the deal just a little, and we're in business." Spike glowered at her. "Tell me what just happened to you."

"Why do you want to know? Why are you suddenly so interested in my life? You came here to kill me, why didn't you? Why the hell don't you!?" he roared, slamming the whisky bottle into the wall beside Buffy, showering her with glass. Seeing her unflinching resolve to find out, he deflated, collapsing in his armchair. "Just…put me out of misery. Tonight has been both the best time I've had in decades and the worst night of my life…it's been...shit, I don't know. Don't care. Not right now...not since...Dru." Buffy perked up at the mention of his sire. She hoped she was getting somewhere. He made a good point though: why did she want to know?

"_After what he just put you through? What the hell is wrong with you?_" Those voices were really starting to piss her off. Sometimes they were pro-darkness, other times not. She wished they'd make up their mind. Her mind, she corrected. "_I'm do not have multip-Forget it. Just…focus on Spike." _Seeing Buffy become so interested, Spike just let go and decided to tell her. He hadn't a clue why, but he just didn't care as much as he knew he should.

"Drusilla…she's dead. I don't know how…I just…felt this feeling," he began, not looking at Buffy. "It was like the floor vanished from underneath my feet and I fell into an abyss. I've never felt like this before in my life. Well, 'cept-" he shut his mouth furiously, snapping to Buffy, daring her to ask. She didn't.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry? Why? You should be glad! A deranged monster is dead, and I'm in pain. I thought you'd be dancing."

"Do I look like I'm dancing?" Spike didn't reply. A silence just hung over them; one Spike wasn't comfortable with.

"So I ask again, slayer: why are you still here? Unless you're going to finish the job you started, I suggest you leave." For some reason, she didn't want to. She wanted to comfort him like he'd let her do for the last hour, though come to think of it, had her presence been a comfort at all? Seeing her reluctance to leave, a small grin spread across Spike's face. "Oh, I get it. I've given you amor e morte, eh? Want a little more? See, I told you. Now, thanks for your time, your pussy and your blood, but get the fuck out."

"Amor e morte? It that some kind of STD?"

"Now!" he yelled, not feeling like joking around. Sensing she was no longer welcome, Buffy backed up, grabbing the cross bow, and left. She went straight home, milling over what had just happened. She had a tightness in her stomach that made her feel ill. She had let Spike bite her. She'd pressed him for sex. She'd loved it. She tried to put all this in perspective, and when she did, she saw how colossally screwed up the whole charade was. Her warped obsession with Spike had fast led her to an even more dangerous love affair with pain. How far would she take it? When in perspective, she knew she had already come too far, but when she stripped that perspective; when she focused on the desire itself, all she knew was she wanted more. She wanted to return to that place where Spike had taken her, and she wanted to stay longer and explore it more deeply.

"_Next time you might die. But then, it's the **might** part that makes it so appealing, isn't it?_ _He was right. Death is your art. You want to know what it feels like. You think you know what you are, what's to come? You haven't even begun. Remember these words? Well, you've begun now, haven't you?_"

Buffy reached her house and stepped inside. She went straight upstairs, eager to slip out of her top, which was sagging under the weight of her blood. She didn't even see the still figure of her mother on the sofa. Going to sleep, she dreamed of death yet again.

* * *

A/N: I've decided to be a bit looser when it comes to following S5, starting here. I found it too restricting to character development. Thanks to my reviewers! Also, know the chapters are very short, but they won't all be. I'm finding that if I just let the chapter decide its own length it turns out better than if I force it to be long.  



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